Iron Heart
by illocutionary
Summary: AU! Fairytale ; In an accident, Prince Kurt breaks his mother's favorite necklace, and goes to David, the resident blacksmith about fixing it. Neither are particularly happy with the arrangement.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I just love fairytales—just something about them makes me so giddy. So here's my shot at it. Please enjoy!

**Iron Heart**

Once upon a time, there was kind, mild-mannered King who ruled over his kind, mild-mannered subjects. Though the Queen had passed away years ago, the King was thankful that their son, the Prince was there by his side. Though occasionally snide and dismissive, the Prince was also strong-willed, courteous, and intelligent—which is why the King grew antsy and restless as the Prince grew older and older—wasn't he supposed to court or be courted by now? And yet with all the balls and visits from foreign dignitaries, his son showed not the slightest interest in any of the ladies and few of the gentlemen throwing themselves at his feet. The King briefly entertained the idea of sending the Prince on a Quest, but frowned—Quests really weren't in style nowadays, and he was sure the Prince would balk at the idea having to stay outside for more than a day without at least five servants accompanying him. And so the King did the only thing that made sense to him—try to be as subtle as possible about his wishes for the Prince to find someone to live Happily Ever After with.

Unfortunately, as well-intentioned and harmless as the King's suggestions were, the Prince could not see the reason why his father had to press the issue so insistently. Distressed and aggravated, the Prince promised that by the stroke of midnight on his twenty-first birthday, he will have named his betrothed. Satisfied, the King agreed, and began handing out invitations to all the neighboring kingdoms, with many of the royalty vying to win the Prince's hand.

Which is where we find the Prince, fumbling over his vanity desk in his bedchambers, organizing and reorganizing it in an attempt to calm down. Despite completely rearranging his facial powders alphabetically instead of by shade, he's still not finished. He pulls out one of the many drawers in the desk, and rooted around for his jewelry box, passed on to him by his mother. His anxiety fizzled out, and he smiled, opening the lid and quietly taking out the fragile pieces. A pair of emerald earrings, golden bracelets, silver rings, and her favorite necklace—

He blinks. Noticing that the necklace has a certain smudge on it, he rubs it, trying to get it off.

_Click._

He blinks, pulling the necklace so the two parts came apart. Some of the chains tumbled off and dropped at his feet.

He screams.

* * *

_This should be it._ Kurt looks around, and back at Finnegan, who merely shrugs. Kurt grits his teeth slightly. Finnegan is harmless and friendly, but Kurt would bet the whole kingdom that there weren't enough brains in the guard's head to fill a thimble. Still, it looks right—a cozy cottage with smoke rising out of the chimney, with a row of tulips decorating the pathway leading up to the house. On the side, there's a small workshop with a few hammers and anvils clustered around the doorway.

"Stay, Finn."

Finn nods with a big goofy smile, and Kurt heads over to the workshop, careful not to disturb anything. He pokes his head in the shack, eyes flickering over the swords, emblems, and half-finished weapons lay scattered around. He wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell of ore and the fact that no one was in, deciding to try the house, but he hears shouting coming from the back, and detours around the small workshop to see a small stream, and three men ankle deep in it, throwing rocks at each other. And _laughing_.

Kurt rolls eyes, crossing his arms. Two of the men he recognized—Anderson the knight and Adams the court mathematician who both were wearing simple garbs, their official uniforms both laying a few feet away, nicely laid out in the sun. They were ganging up on the third man, who despite the disadvantage, seemed pretty well-matched to take the two on. The man was built like a troll, with tree trunks for legs, a wide, broad chest, and sinewy, bulky arms. Despite his face being darkened with soot, it was brightened with a radiant smile that almost made Kurt's eyes hurt looking at it, as he flung rocks at the other two, who're dodging as best as they could while foraging for stones to hurl back. One managed to nick Anderson in the head, but besides a short cry, the knight laughed, absentmindedly swiping a hand over the blood trickling down his face.

Imbeciles.

"And what is going on here?" Kurt asks abruptly, stepping closer and trying to keep the tone of his voice stern as possible. All three turn their heads, and immediately, Adams and Anderson steps out of the stream and kneels before Kurt.

"Your highness."

"My lord."

The last man looks on, before meeting eyes with Kurt and executing a hasty bow.

Azimio raises his head, "A defensive drill, your highn—"

"We were just having a good rock fight," Blaine butts in, seemingly unaware of the other two's glares.

Kurt doesn't even bother to try to understand. "Whatever, I just need to know where the goldsmith is."

The man at the back raises a hand. "That's me."

Kurt scoffs. He can't really help it—it's been awhile since he's heard something so ridiculous. Those huge, dirty, grubby paws attempting something so delicate as working with gold? Hysterical.

"I'm being serious."

The man squints, "And so am I—I am David Karofsky, son of Paul Karofsky, the original black and goldsmith in this village."

"In that case, please go get your father."

"That would be a little difficult, your _highness_," David seethes, spitting out the title, "he passed away last year."

Kurt flinches, and looks away, not liking the glower that's aiming right at him. "Anderson, you don't suppose you know a more _capable_ goldsmith in the vicinity?"

The Knight shakes his head, "You're not going to find better craftsmanship in the entire kingdom, your highness. I don't think even Alvea or the Stramdraff Territories have anyone that can compare with Davey here," he claps a hand on the large man's shoulder, before getting shrugged off roughly.

Kurt squints, but sighs, relenting as he passes over the small satchel that held his mother's necklace, trying to keep his hand from trembling.

"I better get this back, and it better be in one piece. I will be back tomorrow," he snaps, before sharply wheeling around and walking back towards the carriage. Finn, who had been taking a quick nap, snaps into action as soon as he hears the sharp clacking of Kurt's boots, and hurries forward to open the door for the Prince, and scuttling to the front to get the horses moving. He waves a cheery goodbye and heads off in the direction of the castle.

A beat.

"What the hell was that, Anderson?" Adams demanded, incredulity written all over his face.

Blaine looked at the both of them, utterly confused. "What?"

"We were trying to save our reputations from being totally maimed, and you ruined it!"

"Rock fighting is nothing to be ashamed of, gentlemen, it was all in good sport and-"

"Good sport my ass, you two ambushed me while I was trying to wash up. Also," Dave points at Blaine's head, "you're still bleeding there, Good Knight."

Blaine answers by chucking a rock at David's face.

* * *

Kurt can't calm down.

He's pacing his room, and if he was any less nervous, he'd be mourning over the state of his poor carpet- but as of now, he can only imagine horrible, terrible things happening to that necklace, his mother's heart and soul.

What if that brute destroyed it? Melted it down and sold it off to some scum in the black market? Pawned it off and ran out of town? Kurt claps a hand over his mouth. Oh god, what has he done? How could he- what was he _thinking_?

_No time to dwell on it._ He throws on a wool coat from the closet and slips out of his slippers and into his boots. His only concern was how to get pass the guards this late at night.

And apparently, the Goddess hates him.

The Prince seethes, shutting his bedchamber door once more. Out of all the royal guards on duty- tonight _had_ to have Noah and Michael? Kurt's pretty sure Noah's got a nose of a dog, and Michael's ability to spot even the faintest movements have made him a popular hunting partner when autumn begins. And even if Kurt is wearing his quietest boots, he's unsure if it would be enough to keep him from being undetected. He walks briskly over to the window, throwing it open, and letting the bitingly cold night wind cut across his face. He looks out.

Well, it's not _too_ bad...just a hop, skip, then he can grab onto that ledge, which should be able to swing over to that tower...

He grips the rope he stashed in his closet, and scrambles out onto the balcony.

* * *

After an hour later, he's stuck.

He underestimated the distance from the library window and the kitchen's roof, which has him suspended between the two, at least thirty feet up from the ground. He pulls himself half-heartedly up, feeling his arms tremble.

Curse that blasted blacksmith! He contemplates for the thousandth time that night if simply dropping down to the ground will kill him or only break every bone in his body, while mulling over the pros and cons of each.

"How's it hanging, your highness?"

Kurt hisses, and squirms to twist the rope around the 180 degrees to confront the person who dared to make light of this predicament- he should've known.

"Karofksy! Who in blazes told you that you could enter royal grounds?"

David shrugged, "I finished fixing your necklace, and I figured I could get Adams to join me at the pub while I dropped this off." He pulled out the satchel that Kurt had given him, shaking it slightly. Kurt widens his eyes slightly, before realizing- oh right- he's still fucking stuck clinging onto a rope.

"Anyways," David goes on conversationally, as if he wasn't talking to someone dangling several feet above his head, "I'll leave this here..." he bends down, placing the bag on the cobbled floor of the courtyard, "have a good night, your highness."

Kurt pursues his lips, trying to ignore how sore his hands are and how calloused they're getting. He wasn't going to bend, he wasn't going to break just for the amusement of this overgrown ape...

"Fine! I hope someone slits your throat and-" Kurt stops, feeling himself sinking down, and looks up at the unraveling string.

There wasn't even time to scream.

* * *

He really wasn't going to leave him there.

Really, he wasn't. He wasn't sure why, but he supposed the Prince had a reason he was sneaking out of his own castle so late at night, and even if he didn't, well-

Intent on finding Azimio so they could figure out how to get the insufferable Prince down, he was almost about to head over to the stables when he heard the -_snap_-.

Sucking in a breath, he tore back to the middle of the courtyard, stepping on flowers and vaulting over bushes. Goddess, please, please, _please_ let him make it- at the last few feet, he lunges and dives down, arms outstretched.

And caught the Prince, though not how he planned. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit! David groans, shoving his face into the ground. Kurt whimpers above him, laying sprawled, facing up, his entire back protesting against the impact. He slowly gets up, swinging his feet around and using his hands to push himself up, before grabbing on something round and fuzzy. He looks down.

Oh.

Kurt quickly gets off of David's back and his hand off of the back of the man's head, brushing his trousers and fidgeting in an attempt to look busy.

David stands up a few moments, wobbling slightly and trying to shake off the bright spots forming in his eyes, and Kurt looks on horrified, before bristling and barks at him, "Are you serious? What did you do that for?"

"Maybe saving the entire kingdom from the grief of having a Royal Pancake rather than a Prince!"

"Oh, so I'm something to be coddled after?" He's vibrating from anger, staring David down, "That I can't do anything by myself?

"Apparently so, if you do stupid stunts like this!"

Kurt points his finger at Dave, his ire raised tenfold "I don't need your help! I'm fine on my own! I don't need anyone! Why can't anyone just see that?"

Silence. He's said too much. Kurt can see that sliver of pity radiating from David, and he ducks his head, looking down and finding the satchel. He scoops up the bag and hurries off, trying to keep his nose in the air. He barrels past guards and ignores their questions and remarks.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks for all the initial support! o/ You guys are really sweet, thank you!

"Karofsky."

David turns around, and finds the Prince crossing his arms, cutting an impressive figure by stance alone while Finnegan is behind him panting slightly, lugging a bag roughly the size of a potato sack into the smithy.

David stands up, "What's this?"

Kurt snaps his fingers and the guard tilts the bag sideways, creating a cascade of gold coins tumbling onto the floor of the workshop, upsetting the ash and dust. David locks eyes with Kurt, wary of the haul in front of him. The repair job was relatively simple, and David was sure that the Prince knew it too.

"What's all this for?" he ventures, trying to read Kurt's face.

Kurt shoos Hudson away, and looks down at his nails, disinterested. "Compensation," he huffs. "Surprisingly, I found your workmanship to be particularly impeccable, and for that, you must be rewarded as such. "

David scratches the back of his head, averting his eyes. "Look, if this is really about me keeping quiet, I'm not going to breathe a w—"

"The only thing you will do, David Karofsky," Kurt stresses, nudging the bag of gold to completely empty out all over the floor, "is accept this for what it is worth. I'm usually not this generous; I believe it'd be in your best interest to take advantage of it."

David's eyes flicker over the Prince's stoic face, and he licks his lips, swallowing down his words. "I understand."

"Good," Kurt clips, and David can't help to notice that the Prince is wearing the necklace already, winding the chain over his fingers.

"Oh, and here," Dave fishes for something off his workbench and flings it at Kurt. The Prince flinches as something sailed into his line of view and he brought his hands up to catch the coil of rope, letting out a small 'oof'.

"What's this?"

Dave doesn't even look up, moving back in front of the forge to resume working. "Harnesses and such. For your next escapde."

Kurt flushes, gripping the rope and beating a hasty retreat.

* * *

He's sitting on his bed, crossed legged and in his night apparel, inspecting his newest gain. He had to admit that he was impressed. Sturdy hooks, a good grappling claw, and strong belt loops to hang anything he might need.

He doesn't understand though- what's the point of giving these to him? Perhaps Karofsky felt uncomfortable with being compensated heavily for so little work. Kurt glowers, thinking it over. Like that could ever happen, the huge ape having things like _empathy_ or_feelings_ in his body was too surreal of a concept. Clearly, the blacksmith was taking him for a sniveling buffoon, and a gigantic one at that. He looks down at the coil of rope and made up his mind, running his hands over the indentations. One of the metal pieces gave in, and Kurt yelped, jumping back as a small dart flew out of a tiny compartment on the other side of the harness and embedded itself onto the opposite wall. Kurt clutches his heart, trying to force air into his lungs as he watched the dart's end vibrate feverishly.

Well that cleared things up; Karofsky wanted him _dead_.

* * *

"More?"

David looks up, a little confused. "What?" Quinnley frowns slightly, lifting the pitcher of ale up a little higher.

"Oh, oh right, sure, thanks," David mutters, still unfocused, and the barmaid tsks, filling his mug back up with mead again before moving away to attend to the other tavern patrons.

David scrubs his face, trying to rub the tiredness out and listen to Evans go on and on about how much he's been selling his firebirds for. Azimio is on his left, ready to go to sleep himself as he rests his chin on his hand, looking off at the far off distance and not paying attention to anything. David catches both Artemius' and Tyna's glances, and they give weak smiles back, before flickering back onto Evans and pretending to follow with his story.

David leans slightly towards Az, "Why did we invite him again?"

"I don't know about you," Azimio whispered back, "but this bastard is so certain that he can ride a pegasus just because he has one, and if I play my cards right, I can get a good story out of tonight if he's determined to prove it."

David grins, and shakes his head, before hearing a tremendous CRASH.

Despite himself, David looks over, getting up and joining the huge ring of rubberneckers as he looks on at the huge commotion. In the center, a maiden was completely drenched in wine, while a large man and a shorter, hooded person were engaging in a stare down. The whole tavern turned quiet, and even though the hooded man was whispering, his voice still carried out through the entire room. "I apologize, that was entirely unintentional."

"Lies!" The maiden wailed, shaking the foam off of her arms and scrunching her hair up in agony. "He was out to ruin me!"

"I hardly know you, madam-"

"Do you regularly lurk around bars to harass others, _good sir_?"

"Just as much as you do," the stranger snaps back, and the whole tavern collectively gasped, which would've been hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that David caught a glimmer of gold from underneath the hood and Azimio could recognize that tone even half-sober.

"Haah, we've got quite a little fool here, don't we?" The huge man leered, towering over the smaller one, before plucking him up by the back of the hood. The shorter man yelped, kicking his feet as he struggled to reach the floor again. Suddenly, he was pulled out of the grip, and then buried into a pair of arms that gripped him tightly, shoving his face into the man's shoulders and effectively shielding his face from view."

"A thousand apologies, sir," David calls out, piquing the interest of even more of the tavern's customers at the newcomer, "my cousin Marion has been losing his eyesight, and has become increasingly bitter over it. It's my fault for sending him over to retrieve the mead for our table." Kurt blinks, and tries to lift his head, but David holds it down. "We'll pay for a new dress for you, miss, and the next round of ale is on me as an apology."

"As kind as your offer is," the giant groused, "I would much rather seek compensation from that little wench you have sniveling in your arms."

As if electrified, Kurt began squirming violently in David's arms, until he broke free and marched up to the huge man, fury in his eyes, "I AM _NOT_ a girl! HOW _DARE_ YOU INSINUATE THAT, YOU DISGUSTING SON OF A-"

The man was about to swing his fist into Kurt's face, but missed as both Azimio and David pulled Kurt out of range sharply, and dragged him all the way out of the bar, running three blocks away from the tavern before finally stopping to catch their breaths.

"Sire," Azimio starts, the first one to recover from the running, "why are you out here alone at night?"

"Am I not allowed to walk freely within my own kingdom?" Kurt sneers, pulling down his hood as he glares at the two of them. David can see a bruise forming on the Prince's cheek, and blood dripping from the side of his mouth.

"Of course you are, your majesty," Azimio agrees, trying to not sound nervous, "but normally, you would at least take Brittany or Mercy along..."

"For what? A girls' night out? A rendezvous out among the stars?"

"I..."

Kurt grabs Azimio's shirt, tugging him closer, and Azimio gulps, staring right into Kurt's bloodshot eyes, "I know this may be a difficult concept to grasp, but I am NOT. A. GIRL."

"Quit it!" David orders, pulling them apart, and grabbing the Prince's shoulders. "Girl or no girl, a member of royalty shouldn't just be waltzing about past midnight picking fights-"

"I can take care of myself!"

"We are _not_ having this conversation again-"

"Why would you care about my wellbeing, blacksmith?" Kurt counters, "you clearly hate me!"

"This isn't a matter of caring, this is about standards and upholding a certain type of image of the Royal House-"

"Oh, right, like you know anything about standards and-"

"Is this what you want?" David breathes out, voice ragged, "To break the Queen's heart as she watches over you?"

Kurt winces, and David thinks he sees a flash of pain on Kurt's face, before a mask of calm replaces it, staring coolly up at the blacksmith.

"You don't know her."

"Highness..."

"Don't act like you know her!" Kurt cries out, leaping forward to tackle David, but was held back by Azimio before he could make it. David sighs, and looks over at his friend, who nods solemnly.

"You need help?" David asks, bringing the hoodie back up over the Prince's head to cover his eyes.

"Please." Azimio sighs, frog-marching Kurt in the direction of the castle. David grimaces and follows from behind.

* * *

After awhile, the Prince was exhausted from the yelling and squirming, laying in Azimio's arms as he's being brought up to his bedchambers. Noah and Michael both nod in recognition, and were about to ask questions, but halted when David shook his head and mouthed, "later."

David pulls back the covers, and Adams takes care to gently put Kurt down on the bed, arranging the pillows comfortably as he's seen Mercy and Rachael do for beds all over the castle.

"Think he'll be alright?"

"Just have to sleep it off, get all that aggression out."

Azimio shakes his head, "I honestly have never seen him do that, it looked like he was about to kill you."

"It was out of line for me though," David admits.

"For saving him?"

"No, for..." David shakes his head, "nevermind, I'll tell you later."

Az shrugs, and went out to explain to the guards what had transpired, but David lingered slightly, taking in Kurt's face, still scrunched up in misery.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Kurt mumbles, almost asleep, and David sighs, blowing out the candle next to the Prince's bed.

"Me neither."


	3. Chapter 3

HEY GUYS.

I haven't been in the fandom for a long time, but since Max is back, I'M BACK and to be honest, I have another fairytale brewing in my head, but I figured that I should probably finish this one before jumping into the next. So here's a bit that I've been saving for quite awhile. I hope I can wrap this up soon! Please enjoy.

* * *

The sun nearly kills him.

Groaning, Kurt scrunches up into a ball and shields his eyes, feeling his head throb dully in response to the light. He buries his face into his lush silk pillows and groggily wonders if it's worth it to pretend to snore.

"Rise and shine, little lark!"

"Nuuuuoooo..." Kurt makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat, and blindly gropes for one of the many pillows on his bed, half-heartedly aiming one at Mercy, who calmly dodges it while shaking the Prince awake.

"Time to sing, lark!" Mercy coos sweetly, but Kurt knows better, scooting further away from her prodding and sharp, falcon-like nails. Not that he ever told her- he rather liked having his head still firmly attached to his body. "Leave me here to die."

"Mmmhmm. Prince or not, I'm this close to dangling you off the balcony. Now up, up, up!"

"Please, feel free," Kurt growls. Unfortunately, last night's misadventures were all rather intact in his head, and he's caught between wanting to die in a corner or sleep forever. Either one, he doesn't want to get up.

"Brought you your pixie root tea," Mercy offers, and Kurt scrunches his nose, before finally relenting and using his elbows to get into a sitting stance and accepting the delicate china cup gratefully and taking in a deep whiff of the tea. Already the strong aroma was clearing up the fog in his head, and he takes a sip, somewhat embarrassed that Mercy had apparently figured out he was drinking last night by brewing up the well-known hangover treatment, even before entering the room.

"I heard what happened last night." Mercy nonchantly brought up, as she set out Kurt's clothes for the day, and the Prince nearly chokes on his tea. Mercy shakes her head, clucking her tongue slightly. "Why didn't you ask me to drink with you? You know I would be perfectly fine with staying here with you while we polish off half of the castle's wine collection."

Kurt puts the cup down on its saucer, "That's the thing. I enjoy having a drink with you but...I'm sick of it! I'm sick of the knights always laughing right in my face when I ask if I can join them during their tavern trips."

"And so you went out, had too much mead, gotten into a couple of fights, before Az and David rescued your pretty little face from being forever mistaken as an orc's."

"I could've taken him on," Kurt sniffs, though self-conciously rubbing a hand over his cheek.

"Boy, no you couldn't. If even Az and David ran away from him like the Goddess' wrath was at their feet, I don't think you could've even made him blink."

"I thought you were supposed to be on my side," Kurt pouts.

"I am, little lark," Mercy hums, holding out her arms to hug Kurt, who accepts- he _was _feeling miserable as it is, "but Az grew up in the Territories, and I once saw David take down three trolls while still talking about the weather. When they say you were about to be pummeled to death, I believe them."

"You know Karofsky?"

"Of course," Mercy shrugs, "everyone in the castle does, he made me these for my birthday," Mercy pushes back her hair and Kurt can see a beautiful pair of diamond studs in each ear."

"As well as this," Mercy kneeled down to extract something from the back of her leg and Kurt yelped, as a dagger came into his view. "Comes in handy," Mercy smirks, and she presses the embedded ruby at the center of the knife that exposed a smaller blade at the other end of the knife. "So does this."

Kurt stares, as she presses the ruby again and watches the blade slide back into the handle. "What is with him and adding all these hidden compartments?"

"Trademark," Mercy explains. "He adds something little extra in, which really makes everything that much more useful." She tilts her head, "You didn't think that he's currently the only blacksmith the whole city for no reason? He's driven everyone else out of business."

"Knock knock!" A sweet voice rings out, and Kurt turns to see his twice removed cousin waving frantically at him from the doorway. He tries to smile back. He likes his gentle, if not a little slow relative, but he's not sure if his head can take her logic today.

"Come in, dear cousin."

Brittany shuffles in, her poofy, soft, pink dress compresses slightly as she walked through the double doors and popped back into form after she crossed the threshold.

"Good morning cousin, Mercy," she chirps, and the two call out their own greetings as she made her way towards the bed. She sits at the edge, and causes the dress to puff up, before she flattens it with a casual hand. "I heard about your fighting last night, Kurt."

Kurt groans, throwing himself back onto the mess of pillows. "Is there anyone in the castle that hasn't heard of it?"

"The King, perhaps, but only because everyone is rather fond of their heads." Mercy comments, "Sometimes, I think he dotes on you too much."

Brittany pats Kurt's knee, "It's ok Kurt, if you need it, I'll let you borrow Sunshine if you need him."

"Sunshine?"

Brittany pulled back her sleeve all the way up to her elbow, and plucked out a brass knuckle that was strapped to her upper arm. She slots her fingers into the four rings and uses her thumb to active the sharp spikes that came protruding out.

Kurt knows he must look utterly moronic with his mouth hanging open, but Brittany doesn't seem to notice, as she lifts her skirt slightly to expose her high heel shoes. She raps sharply at the back of the heel, and a blade protrudes out of the front of the shoe, where her toes were. "I'd let you borrow these too, but we don't share the same shoe size."

"That's...that's alright." Kurt manages out, suddenly feeling terribly insecure, "so that's why no one really minds when I go around town just with you two."

"What's that?" Mercy points at Kurt's grappling hook, and Kurt's eyes widen slightly, going over to grab it before it's snatched up by Brittany. "Oooh, it's his newest one!"

"The one that he wouldn't show us?"

"Kurt, you're so lucky-"

"What does it do..." Mercy muses, pressing down on the hidden metal piece. The girls shriek in delight as five darts shoot out and nearly hit Kurt, who's on the floor, trembling.

"Everyone wants to kill me..." Kurt wails, and Mercy hands the harnesses over to Brittany as she kneels over Kurt, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh lark," Mercy sighs, "everyone just wants to see you safe."

"I don't see the need for it." Kurt shoots back.

Mercy crosses her arms, "oh really?"

"Yes, _really_," Kurt grounds out, unwilling to sit up, preferring much more to pretend that his closest friends weren't psychotic potential-assassins.

Mercy sighs, "when you feel like getting up, the King asked me to remind you that you have lunch with him today in the gardens, so you'll have to find time in your moping session to get up and look presentable," she quips with a sickly sweet voice, before ushering Brittany (still cooing over the grappling hook) out of his bedroom. The door closes, and Kurt is left with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, not entirely fueled by alcohol.


End file.
